Shield
by ducktails
Summary: Ava Shaw, born to the unfortunate parentage of Sebastian and Elyse Shaw, has to her dismay inherited some of the gifts of her father, and they are tearing her life apart. Mild lesbian themes, be forewarned.
1. Chapter 1-Auschwitz-1944

A note from the author,  
Actually more of a confession...well several confessions. Firstly, I never read authors notes as a reader so I really won't blame you if you skip over this. I also hate short chapters, I find them so unsatisfying. Funny, given this attempt at writing will be chock-full of short chapters. I say attempt because I would not consider myself in any capacity a writer, the fact of the matter is I have been ill for a number of days and had nothing to do. Oh, also I rarely ever read anything with an OC, ever, I'm bias I guess. However, I committed my own cardinal sin by making this an OC fic, dastardly right? This fic is based almost entirely on the films, my apologies to those dedicated enough to follow the comics, I salute you. This also happens to be my first fanfic ever so please do excuse my atrocious spelling and grammar, or don't up to you. All confessions aside I hope you enjoy Shield...yes I know I should think of a better title.

Auschwitz-1944  
It had been raining for what seemed like weeks when father brought the dark eyed boy and his mother into his office. Both were thin and filthy. Pitiable, more so now that they were in the unyielding hands of my father. In a way the dark eyed boy saved me, he was a few years older and his mutation had already surfaced. He took my place in the white room full of fathers instruments, for a while at least. The boy turned out to be stronger than father anticipated, and he escaped, leaving me and my mother alone to suffer the wrath of that man.

I didn't suffer for long. He shot my mother, his wife, just as he did the thin woman before. With the regime beginning to crumble there was no need to preserve appearances, or his perfect aryan family. Nothing, after the death of my mother, after the red hours in the white room, after being taunted with the freedom of death, Nothing, no powers surfaced. I was as human as my mother, and as worthless.

Shaw didn't even waste a bullet on me, instead he made a leisurely escape, and left me in the room of my waking nightmares.

I had not been outside since the dark eyed boy had left, and I took his place. I learned that it was winter of 1945, when the russian men unstrapped me from the slab I had been tethered to for days. They dressed my wounds and fed me best they could. There was some controversy as to where to put me, my light eyes and hair could've gotten me into trouble with the other liberated, so I stayed with the group who had found me and assisted in the med tents. Despite my efforts I was rather useless, I could not speak their language, stomach the sight of others blood, or cook, useless-but rarely punished for it. I occupied my time washing sheets and bandages, and running fresh water to wherever it was needed. It was several weeks later that I discovered one of the few things I was not useless at, I had a hand for keeping the automobiles running on what little fuel we had, in the frigid weather.

While it was unconventional to have a meager fourteen year old girl running most of the vehicles in the outfit, I was competent, and no one complained, at least not in a language I understood. Things went on this way for a while, perhaps longer. It was easy to let the days pass unnoticed, I had work to occupy me and no longer had to fear Shaw. Its not as if I wanted the war to continue, but here under the hood of a car surrounded by the bustle of men in uniform I was safe, relatively speaking. I had food to eat, a place to sleep and if someone wanted to hurt me they'd do it outright. No one here could ever match the cruelty of my father. So when they announced that Hitler was dead and the nazi's surrender was soon to follow, I did not share my comrades elation, I had no home to speak of and no one to take me in, no one that I knew.

Borus was a russian american engineer who had heard about my success with weatherproofing engines, he had been jarringly direct when he asked me to be his assistant in fractured german. I hesitated at first, he was an imposing man, one who could fill a high double doorway, and I suspect wrestle a bear unarmed. It was his appearance that made his offer so difficult to refuse, I was quite sure he would squash me if I upset him. It was only later that I learned he was less of a bear wrestler and more of a fat house cat. Regardless, he was kind and patient, and after finding russian quite impossible he taught me english. After the war business was over and done with Borus told me he wanted to move back to America and offered to take me with him. From what I had heard about america, it sounded too good to be true, but Borus had become my only trusted companion in a very large, very uncertain world. I was not ready to lose my only anchor in this world. So I went with him.


	2. Chapter 2-Connecticut-1947

Given his savings and connections it didn't take Borus long to open a garage a few miles off the coast, not far from a neighborhood filled with expensive, finicky cars. He managed the front, I still had a german accent and was poor at dealing with people. We had a great big blue neon sign that read 'Borus & Co. Auto Shop', we made good money and went boating on Sundays. He married a buxom widow and I stayed in the back fixing cars and practicing my american accent. I was never so happy to be wrong, America was just as wonderful and free as all the stories I had heard. I had made a life, and even made friends with Borus' wife Donna.

She was lovely, I had never seen a woman like her, except painted on the sides of american planes and automobiles. She had glossy red hair and honeyed green eyes. She liked fast cars and expensive shoes, and could afford it all on the combined income of her current and former husbands. The first time I met her she wore a buttercup yellow dress with a rich black ribbon, she shook my hand and her skin was softer than rose buds, I'm pretty sure I blushed. In the weeks following she brought me all sorts of things old frocks of hers far too big in the chest for me, magazines filled with pictures of glamorous girls just like Donna, and lipstick I never had the courage to put on. I understood how Borus was so smitten with her, when she visited the shop I could hardly keep my eyes off her. So I didn't at all regret pushing her out of the way when a navy blue Chevrolet came screeching past the shop. My growth was somewhat stunted so I was small for sixteen and that car was so big and so heavy and when it crushed me, it felt like I was being crushed into dust. I was so small. That car barely slowed down.

I don't know what happened between, but when I woke up, I woke up on an all too familiar steel slab, this time untethered with only a tag around my toe, and a sheet covering my face.

It was not clear to me then that whoever put me there had been quite certain I was dead, so the surprise was mutual when I walked out of the morgue wrapped in a sheet asking for my clothes. The morticians were shocked, too shocked to fully grasp the implications of a once dead body walking out and too shocked to ask questions. They couldn't return my clothes, seeing as they were thoroughly shredded, but they were kind enough to give me some scrubs and a cab to the garage. I left, the faces behind me intensely confused.

When I returned the garage was empty, the sign off, strange for a weekday afternoon. There had been accidents at the garage before but they never merited closing shop early. Worried I rang for Donna's, she picked up on the second ring sounding rather breathless.

"Hello?"  
"Donna? I just got back to the garage, its empty, is Borus there?"  
"What? You're? We're coming over this instant."

True enough, I heard a screeching halt in front of the store minutes later. I jogged out to meet them shocked to find Donna puffy eyed and Borus looking solemn. What had happened? Donna took a moment to recognise me but suddenly she was smiling and crying and running towards me, and before I could react I was in a teary sweet smelling embrace.

"Oh, honey. Oh thank god," Donna buried her face into my straw colored hair, kissing me on my forehead its a miracle."  
"What?"  
"They said you were dead! There was blood everywhere! They took you away! It was awful! Awful! but they were wrong, you're just fine, look at you. Its a miracle." Donna could barely contain herself, I could feel the warm wetness of her tears on my temple. Not knowing what to do I returned her embrace.  
"They were mistaken," they had to be "I'm fine. Borus?" I turned to him, his expression had lightened but I could see his uncertainty.  
"You were pronounced dead when the ambulance came, they said it was already too late, they were taking you to a morgue"  
"I know but I woke up. They were wrong. I'm fine now"  
"Are you?" Borus suddenly looked much older, like a stone worn down by time and the beating winds.  
"I'm fine"

He heaved a great sigh and placed a hand on Donna's shoulder and mine, encircling, us in his arms. I'm sure if I had a picture of that moment we'd look very much like a family, and like a family we decided never to discuss that incident again. However, I felt that something within me had changed, because no matter how I tried to rationalise that the paramedics had made a mistake that day it didn't make sense.

I found that other things had changed as well, where I had once spent most of my time inside, only coming out when the sun was low or overcast, now every window of the workshop was open and the feeling of the sun on my skin was exhilarating. Additionally, I became more attuned to the buzz of my equipment and found myself constantly being shocked, a rather annoying developement but nothing of note. I rationalized these as well, Donna's love of sunshine had simply rubbed off on me, and since the end of spring the air had been dryer explaining the static. Nothing had changed, and nothing would ever change because they were fine the way they were.


	3. Chapter 3-Christopher

Of course I was wrong, things did change, I hoped for the better. Donna was pregnant, I had a niggling fear that I would be abandon in favor of a biological child. Borus and Donna proved again how exceptionally kind they were, completely erasing my doubts, and gave me the honor of naming their first son. Christopher was born late in january,1948, and he was as lovely as his mother, with the knowing eyes of his father, and a profound ability for getting into his godmothers tools. I was truly part of a family now, a proper family Like the ones she saw in the sears catalog on donna's guest room nightstand. Everything was lovely, all the horrible things I had suffered at the hands of Shaw were far away nightmares and he was a boogy man that could be easily banished by the light. Things were wonderful for years, we still went boating every sunday, even though we had to keep a sharp eye on Christopher. Things only began to change on Christopher's ninth birthday.

Donna had begun to get whispers of laugh lines around her bright eyes, Borus had a flash of silver above his right ear, and Chris had gotten much too big for me to hold like I once had, but I had hardly changed. Perhaps I had grown a tiny bit I now stood shoulder height next to my adopted mother, still dwarfed by Borus though. My hips were fuller and my waist dipped, in but I would never fill Donna's hand me down dresses.

In the years following Chris continued to shoot up, in less than a decade He matched his father's stature. Borus on the other hand had begun to stoop ever so slightly, and Donna grew ever lovelier. I stayed the same, exactly the same as I was ten years ago, but just like the incident so long ago it was not discussed. That, and one other thing, Christopher had fallen in with a rough bunch mostly out of rebellion, a product of privilege I supposed. We all hoped he'd simply grow out of it before things ever got serious. We were foolish to not see how serious things had already become, but it became very clear when he came to the garage with a barrage of bruises and a fractured ulna.

The entrance bells jangeled harshly when he came in. "Sorry, we're closed."  
"Ava its me, I need your help"  
"Chris? what in the name.." but then I saw the state he was in "Christopher!?"  
"I was stupid, please help, they're gonna kill me.."  
"Who is going to kill you? Come here let me see what they've done to you." Even in the spotty light of my workbench I could the the bruising was severe, like so many of the injuries I'd seen in the tents. "Good lord, what have you gotten yourself into?"  
He didn't have the chance to answer, over the sound of his hooligan pursuers motoring up to the shop. It sounded like maybe ten or so, probably drunk, just a bunch of rowdy teenagers.  
"Chris, Christopher look at me! You're going to be fine, everything's going to be okay. You understand?" He nodded looking dazed as I wrapped his arm and put him in one or Borus jackets and caps. "You are going to sit tight and not make a peep, I'm going to take care of this, I'm going to take care of you. So, hush up, you're fine."  
He made a sound of protest as a stood to leave, but quieted when I shot him a warning look. He was silent when I stepped out.


	4. Chapter 4-Hooligans

"Gentleman, I'm afraid we're closed for the night. If you'd like to come back the shop opens at nine."  
"As much as I'd love to have my oil changed, sweetheart, I'm not here on that kind of business."

The boy who spoke was much shorter than Chris, his build was sturdy and he had teeth that looked too large for his mouth. Behind him he had an impressive posse split into four cars, expensive ones probably bought for them by their parents. Thugs, about twelve yuppy thugs that Chris had managed to piss off. Several carried bats, a rather slimy looking boy of sixteen compulsively flicked his knife. The three who appeared to be the ringleaders all carried guns.

"Is that so? Than what can I help you with?"  
"I think you know" The toothy boy said swinging his gun at his hip. When I didn't respond he stomped towards me and pressed his gun up under my chin.  
"I can't think of any business you'd need that for. Is that your daddy's piece?"  
The boy shoved the gun hard against my throat forcing me back a step. "I'm looking for a brat named Christopher. I know he's here, now open up or I'm gonna have to muss up your cute little face."  
"Christopher?" I could feel the rapid wing beats of unwelcome butterflies in my gut. "You just missed him I'm afraid, if you just give me your name I can let him know you dropped by next time I see him"  
The boy didn't give me much warning, I barely blinked before he backhanded me across the face gun still in hand. I resisted the urge to spit, that had always earned me another blow. Instead I took a step forward grabbing the boy firmly by the chin forcing him to meet my gaze.  
"No look here bully, I don't want your business here, I don't want anyone who'd stoop so low as to hit a lady here, I want you to leave before you do something you regret." Before this I never had a reason to pretend to be strong, then again I had never had anyone to protect.  
He hit me again, but I snapped my head right back, this punk didn't even have the guts to look at me. I took another step forward, he faltered took a half step back then pushed his gun against my chest. I could feel the buzz of its metal against my chest. I wrapped my fingers around the barrel and scanned across the group. They had all gone quite still. He shoved again, this time I was prepared, I didn't budge.  
"I'm asking you to leave."  
"SHUT UP!"  
The shot felt like a drum beat, the vibrations traveled through me making my fingertips feel warm. Completely unharmed, somehow I absorbed the bullet, somehow I had known I could, and it felt good.  
The knife boy spoke up. "You really shot her! Lance! You said that thing was only for show!"  
"Lance? The Summers' boy? Now what kind of position would you be in if that had killed me? that'd make you a murderer."  
"SHUT UP!" Another shot, my fingertips felt hot. I could feel the bullet's energy bouncing around inside of me. I felt giddy.  
"Lance we should get outa here, man, somethings wrong with her"  
"GOD DAMN IT! SHUT UP WILSON" His hands were shaking now, and before he could do something really stupid I snatched the gun from his grip.  
"Please leave." Shaking all over he staggered back to his cronies. Who drove off far more sober than they arrived.

I was shaking by the time I got back inside, whatever I had done was not normal, was not human and I would never do it again. Where I had once felt giddy, I felt ill. I was still holding the gun when I ran to the workshop to check on Chris. He had heard everything, and I can't imagine what he thought had happened, but when I threw down the gun and tried to help him he flinched away from my touch. It took a great deal of coaxing to finally get him into the car and off to the hospital, where I called Borus and Donna. They were there shortly. Christopher had insisted I stayed outside the hospital room, but even through closed doors I could hear Donna erratically bouncing from scolding Chris to to thanking god he was alright. When she was finished the room got much quieter, I could only catch a few words of the muffled conversation. I dreaded him recounting the events at the garage, and when Borus stepped out to face me I feared the worst.

"Ava."  
I couldn't return his gaze.  
"Ava," He looked up and surveyed the hallway, it was nearly empty save a few very tired looking nurses "He tells me you were shot."  
I worried with the cuff of my jacket, rubbing my thumb over a relatively new grease stain. It was a nice jacket wool stormy gray with pewter fastenings, a gift. I wished I had been more careful with it. Why didn't I take better care of things? Borus sat down beside me pulling my restless hand into his lap. My hands looked tiny, pale against his rich colored skin.  
"He told me you were holding a gun."  
"I took it from one of those boys, Lance, the Summers' kid."  
"You did a brave thing, standing up to those boys. Protecting my son." He pressed his thumb hard into my palm. "But, a stupid thing, you could've gotten yourself killed."  
"I don't know what happened, I wasn't thinking. I'm scared."  
"Its over."  
"I'm scared of what will happen now." I allowed myself a glance at Christopher's door, then regretted it. "I'm not sure if I can stay."  
"Of course you can, you're-"  
"Can I? There something wrong with me, for years now, and I don't understand it. I can't talk about and now, now he's afraid of me." I knew I was babbling, I knew if I went on I might cry, and truly I wanted to. But, as much as it broke my heart I understood now that Borus was not a shoulder to cry on. He was not my father, he was my boss my comrade, and I was never genuinely a part of his family.  
"No," more to myself then Borus "I can't."  
"Tell Christopher I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, and I'll miss you and Donna more than anything in this world, you two have given me so much and I am grateful. I-" I didn't know what to say, what could I say to the man who had given me a life worth living? How could I leave him before I could repay his kindness? Was I so selfish? "I would have never survived without you, thank you."


	5. Chapter 5-New York-1962

It had been straight forward enough to disappear in the big city. Despite the close quarters, people adamantly ignored one another, and I for one was grateful to go unnoticed. Getting a job was less easy, a job I wanted at least. I could have simply waited tables or done retail, probably would have lost my mind. I liked fixing things and I was good at it, so I wandered New York for a garage willing to employ me. It took a while but I finally found one, 'Benny's Parts & Repair' in Queens. Benny, a rather rotund undiscerning man hesitated at first, but after an adept demonstration he agreed to hire me as long as I stayed in the back, which is what I prefered. I made enough to feed myself and to keep a closet sized apartment one block over. I kept the lipstick Donna had given me in a tin box on top of the fridge as well as a pair of work gloves from Borus. I didn't have much of monetary value, but I didn't need much, even though a surprisingly well intentioned Benny had insisted I keep a can of mace with me.

"These streets can be nasty for a young lady like you, seein' as how you always work so late."

He had been right though, tension was high everywhere from the mounting threat of nuclear war. I had been jumped a few times, forced to draw on powers I swore I would never use. Thankfully, in a bustling city no one ever noticed. Things went on normally.

"Morning Benny"  
"Mornin' sweetcheeks, I got two chevys and a ford for you to work your magic on. Theres also a busted V8 I thought you could resurrect."  
I gritted my teeth at the nick name. Benny was nice enough but he had a few ungentlemanly habits. "Sure thing boss."

I started on the ford, a 1959 escort with a rusted out under carriage and a loose bumper. I had already wheeled myself under, and was a loosening the fittings, thinking what a pain it was I got all the cars better off at the city dump when the headache hit me. It felt like someone had reached into my head and tried to throttle my brain stem. I ejected myself from under the car and crawled to the nearest bucket, dry heaving till a rancid bile forced its way up my throat.

"If thats morning sickness, I swear to god I'll fire you!"  
"Can it Benny! It was just a bad bagel" I sounded horse.

I had had bad bagels before, plenty, but I had not felt gut wrenching pain like that since-since a time I did not wish to remember. I hoped that it was nothing, but an inkling in the back of my mind told me something was coming. I forced it down. While pulling out and chrome treating all the escort's damaged hardware was a pain, it was hard work and it kept my mind from wandering for a good day and a half. After I was satisfied I reattached the bumper and spent the afternoon tinkering with the V8. It was already dark, the door buzzed about an hour and a half before closing. I was strictly repairs and customs, Benny always dealt with customers, so I was surprised when I didn't hear him make a move for the entrance.

"Benny!" Maybe he was stuck on the toilet again.  
"Sorry for the wait," I scanned the men who had entered, an earnest looking university type, and a taller man with a strong jaw and a familiar gaze. Tucking away my grease rag I turned to the earnest one, and instantly felt yesterdays nausea. I had to support myself on the nearest table. It was him.  
"You, you're doing this. please stop."  
"Oh, my apologies I didn't realise I was hurting you, or that anyone was so sensitive to...I'm sorry let me help you." He moved to assist me but I flinched back.  
"I'm truly sorry," still holding out his hand "I'm Charles and this is-" I looked to the taller man and gasped.  
"Eric?" He looked very different now, but his tormented eyes had changed little from the time I first saw him.  
Charles turned. "Eric? You never mentioned any acquaintances?"  
When Eric Finally spoke he was resolute. "I don't know her."  
"You wouldn't," I could feel tears welling up. It was the first time I cried since I escaped that room, that man. Every nightmare came into sharp focus, every terrible memory made real again "its been many years and with all that happened. You wouldn't remember."  
I stepped closer to him. Yes, he had changed a great deal, but the scars left by Shaw were still raw. I could barely see through my tears. Everything I had worked so hard to forget had become inescapable.  
"I can't believe you survived, he killed my mother the day after you escaped."  
Through my tears I could see it dawning on him, his brow unfurrowing, his jaw going slack. He grabbed me by the shoulders, with a grip like ice. "There were more? How many? Who are you?"  
There was no air left in me, I felt hollow. Try as I might I could not speak. It was Charles who spoke, his presence in my mind gentler now. "Her name is Ava Shaw, daughter of Sebastian Shaw, and she is the only other child he experimented on at the Auschwitz camp."  
"His daughter?"

Eric's grip on my shoulders tightened painfully I could hear the metal in the shop begin to rattle and groan. I was sure he was going to kill me. In retrospect, I should have known his natural response was to end the life of anyone related to Shaw. Eric's hatred of that man rivaled my own. Most likely surpassed it, where my feelings for Shaw were a cocktail of fear and hatred, his was was pure unadulterated loathing. I hoped he would just break my neck and be done with it. I scrunched my eyes shut in preparation. His power over metal and my vivid imagination told me I could suffer much worse than a broken neck if he willed it. I could hear the metal begin to quiet, the last sound was the 'tink' of an aluminum screw hitting the floor. Then, nothing, I dared to open one eye and found Eric's face quite close to mine. I could not face him so I bowed my head, my forehead brushing his chin, and stared intently at the floor. There was a warm weight on my collarbone, what must have been Eric's brow, and a singular tear moistened the material of my shirt. We were two wounded beasts, comrades through our suffering, too damaged to live as normal people do.

"I'm sorry." I'm not sure which one of us had said it. Such a tiny voice could not belong to the man who held me, but my throat was still too tight to make a sound.  
I lifted my head and laid my still shaking hand on Eric's arm, giving it the gentlest squeeze. He raised his head as well, a question in his eyes but he said nothing. He straightened up, stepped back, and turned to leave. Charles made several noises that sounded like the beginnings of words but quickly gave up, he gave a slight apologetic bow before turning to follow Eric.

A note from the author,  
First of all, Yay five chapters-all be it short ones. Secondly, I suspect, if anyone is reading this, they may be wondering, 'where the heck is Loki? He was in the description, he's why I clicked, and he has yet to show up! I've been duped! cheated! I've been loki'd!' well I hate to disappoint but he may not be showing up for a while...only a little while I hope. Oh, and you know how I mentioned in the previous note this was my first fic, well it would be nice to know how I'm doing, so if you have any opinions don't hesitate to share. Thank you for reading this far.


	6. Chapter 6-Nick Fury

A lot changed in forty years, phones got smaller, food got bigger, and replacing things became far more popular than fixing them. New Yorkers stayed the same though, still avidly ignoring one another on the streets. I stayed the same too, mostly. I had planned on getting a new haircut, but chickened out and settled for bangs. Which the stylist had suckered me into, and I regretted now that they had grown out and were constantly getting in the way of my work.

Benny passed away at eighty two, pretty good all things considered, leaving the shop to his son, and I moved to a warehouse on the docks where I expanded my trade. I from cars to boats, planes, and helicopters. Still putting together the occasional custom for eccentrics with deep pockets. A year ago I made a purple batmobile, rocket boosters included for a guy from Alberta. I'm fairly certain it was not street legal, but I don't know anything about canadian automotive laws. Besides, it was a fun piece of work. I was making enough money to hire Patricia, a willowy woman from lower Manhattan, to handle all the non mechanical aspects of the business. She was very good at her job, very professional, if a bit cold. She handled all patron interactions so I didn't have to. I had never intended to become a recluse, but over the years I had gradually lost the ability to connect with people. Not that I really needed to, emailing worked fine.

I had been working on an electric blue Kitfox, clearing the intake and replacing two combustion chambers when I heard the helicopter. Through the skylight I could see it was a military model in pristine condition with an eagle on its side. I had hoped it was simply passing over, dealing with government or military was not something I actively sought out, but it looked like it would be making a landing. Sure enough it did, the buffering wind from its landing made the windows of my warehouse rattle. When it had quieted down a little-I was known to occasionally be knocked over by strong wind-I stepped out and jogged over to the landing pad. The man who stepped out was tall, nowhere near Borus height, and stern looking in his long coat and eyepatch.

"Can I help you?..." Waiting for his name.  
"Nick Fury. Are you Ava?" I nodded "Just to be sure, I didn't have a photo on file." He said more to himself, as if not having a photo was the result of some monumental incompetence. "Then yes, you can help me."  
"I usually work by appointment-"  
He cut me off "I usually work directly."  
"Well, your helicopter looks fine," I looked at it wondering if he had taken it just to make a grand entrance. "so, what do you need me for?"  
"From what I understand you're very good at fixing things. I happen to be responsible for a massive investment that despite the work of a dozens geniuses can't get off the ground. I was hoping you could fix it." It sounded like he was serious, but he had one of those voices that could make the most absurd things sound serious.  
"I'm not a genius, I'm a mechanic. If your people are as smart as you say I doubt I'd have any better luck. Have you considered Tony Stark?" Whatever this Nick Fury was talking about it sounded like his type of gig.  
"Yes, I did considered Tony," his visible eyebrow twitched irritatedly "briefly, and deemed him unsuited to the task."  
"Besides," he looked back to me "I think geniuses might be part of the problem."  
His monocular gaze was difficult to handle. I found myself trying to turtle away, hunching my back and pulling my shoulders up to my ears. Not knowing what else to say, I said. "Okay." Which Fury took as consent.  
As soon as the word left my lips I was being herded over to a now running helicopter. Any protest I made was drowned out by thundering blades of the craft. My only repreve was Fury's sure grip on my arm, it kept me from being blown away. I was swiftly shoved into the cabin, a regulation bag put over my head, flying god knows where. A few hours later the helicopter had landed and I was lead, still blinded, to what sounded like hanger bay. Numerous voices bounced off of high concrete walls and machinery hummed in all directions. I was lead out of the din to a smaller quieter room and sat down, the bag was removed. Fury sat across from me looking what could only be described as smug.  
"Was the bag really necessary?" I was trying my best to glare, but I could feel the flush on my face undermining my discontent.  
"Do to the specific nature of this project yes, it was."  
"Wouldn't it have been easier to inform of the nature of your project before abducting me?"  
"You might have changed your mind."  
"Yes! I would have changed my mind-"  
"You haven't even seen what I've brought you here to fix-"  
"That's because you put a bag over my head!" He walked over to the far side of the room where there was a large blinded window. He fingered the cord and turned to me.  
"Would you like to see?"  
"..." He was tempting me on purpose, and it was working. Whatever this thing was, it was big, bigger than anything I had ever worked on. I'd never get a chance like this again, but, if I couldn't fix it what then?  
"What happens if I can't fix it?"  
"The United States is out about 300 million and-"  
"To me."  
"You sign a confidentiality agreement, and are on your way." 

I stared at him long and hard, trying to find something, some loophole he was hiding, a reason not to give into temptation and peak. I found nothing. I took measured steps across the room and held out my hand. He took it and we shook, his other hand swiftly pulled up the blinds.


	7. Chapter 7-Helicarrier

The Helicarrier wasn't beautiful, not in the classical sense. For all the advanced technology it housed, the whole thing looked rather clunky. Less like the multi million dollar secret weapon it was, and more like a child's lego project. Nonetheless it was captivating, still in construction, I could see its inner workings, the titanic guts to this flying beast. It had the precise majesty of a fractal, the closer I looked, the more intricate it became. I was so captivated by its thousands of mechanisms, that I nearly overlooked one glaring inconsistency.

Once I saw it, I could scarcely contain myself. My back started to shake and my sides knotted up. What escaped as a barely audible giggle quickly evolved into howling laughter. I was laughing so hard I could hardly breath, hunched over, literally slapping my knee. Fury was looking at me like I had grown a second and third head, which only made me laugh harder. I had sunk to the floor no longer able to support myself, still laughing. The fact that what must have been hundreds of people, people much smarter than myself, had overlooked something so obvious was hurting my brain. All of it was so absurd, the jet black helicopter, the mysterious eyepatched stranger, government abduction, and this ridiculous machine. It was like something out of a comic book. I thought I might die laughing, it was ludicrous, unreal. It had to be unreal, there was no way people, geniuses employed by our government, could be this stupid.

"Geniuses." I had finally stopped laughing, mostly, and was wiping my face. It felt like I had been punched in the gut, my stomach was so sore from laughing so hard. Fury was speechless, for about five minutes it was almost silent in the room overlooking the carrier. The quiet was only interrupted by my lingering giggles.  
"Are you done?" I nodded.  
"Can you fix it?" I shook my head. It was true I couldn't fix it, I didn't have that kind of equipment.  
"Then what is so funny?"  
"Your turbines are upside down."

Fury looked at me, at the helicarrier and sat down. I watched the heel of his hand connect with his forehead. He hunched and his shoulders began to shake. I couldn't tell if he was laughing, crying, or contemplating killing me. When he moved his hand I could see that he was smiling, his version of it, and it was disturbing.

"Geniuses."  
"What happens now?" Fury looked at me with an expression that either ment 'are you stupid?' or 'this is my extra intimidating face'. Unable to decide, and not sure if thats what he meant or if it was just the nature of his face I waited for a verbal response.  
"Seeing as you so competently dealt with with this particular issue, I was hoping you would consider a position within the agency."  
"..." This man had a habit of dropping conversational bombs without warning.  
"Your primary responsibilities would be for the helicarrier and its maintenance. The financial compensation would fair, and you'd be working with technology otherwise unavailable to civilians."  
"May I have some time to think about it?"  
"You may. However this is a limited time offer, so think quickly."  
"Of course, and the confidentiality agreement?"  
"I trust you'll take care of it once you've made your decision." Despite his gruff exterior, it was becoming clear that Nick Fury was a great many things more than he appeared to be, cocky was one of them.


	8. Chapter 8-Encounters

I was returned to my warehouse swiftly, where I then sat in a daze for what felt like hours. Feeling completely unproductive, I informed Patricia I'd be unavailable for the remainder of the day. She sounded a bit miffed over the phone, but efficiency rearranged my schedule. I didn't have the heart to tell her I might be unavailable for a lot longer than a day, not that she'd be phased, she was in the habit of reminding me how many other job offers she had lined up.

I walked, in such a daze even the chaos of the city seemed far away. My own chaos however, was inescapable. I wanted so much to barrel into the the playground Fury had offered, even with all their advancements, fixing planes and such had gotten monotonous. This was a chance to dive into a whole new world of technology, to learn things I would have never thought possible so many years ago when I was weatherproofing engines for the red army. There was just too much risk, I had been lucky to stay under under the radar for as long as I had. But there, right in the midst of military operations and secret agents they were bound to notice inconsistencies. Perhaps they already had, Fury had said nothing but could I really trust him? Would I be safe? I had been walking longer than I realized, and had ended up in central park. I was just realising how sore my feet were and making to sit down at an unoccupied chess table when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I nearly jumped out of my skin, had Nick Fury sent someone after me? I spun on the balls of my feet to face my assailant.

"Ava?" The man who had spoken was an older fellow, he was well dressed in a deep red trench coat and a somewhat worn wool fedora. There was an itching familiarity about him, my mind strained to remember but whoever he was was just beyond my grip.  
"I'm sorry, I-"  
"It has been a very long time." The man took off his hat and sat down, gesturing to the seat across.  
"Eric!" It hit me quite suddenly. "You've changed so much."  
"The years have not been as kind to me as they have to you."  
"No, no. Its something else you seem.." It was hard to put my finger on it, but where once he had been a raging sea of anger and loathing, he was now so contained. Just as powerful as he had been last I met him, likely more so, but he did not seem so volatile. The hate was still there but it was now hidden beneath a placid surface. "stronger, you seem well."  
"I am, and you?"  
"I've had a very strange day, I'm a bit lost. I don't know what move to take."  
Eric smiled. "Ah, that reminds me." He pulled out a burl wooden box, opening it to reveal shining chess set. In one side a set finished in brushed steel the other side bright brass. "Do you play chess?" One by one the pieces floated out of their slots and positioned themselves on the table.  
"No, I never learned."  
"Well, I can teach you. Now seems as good a time as any?" I nodded "Besides, chess is excellent at helping the mind to solve problems."  
"That is, if my mind can even handle chess."  
"I think you'll find I'm a patient tutor." He was, he took me through each piece one at a time, showing me the rules each tiny figure had to follow.  
"Why is the queen the most powerful piece?"  
"That depends on how you define power. The queen may have the most moves, but her fate does not decide victory."  
"That doesn't answer my question."  
"No, it doesn't. It's actually a misnomer the piece was originally known as the minister, but do to confusion with the bishop, and the resemblance of a crown the name eventually changed."  
"Oh. How do I get out of check?" He laughed.  
"That's up to you to figure out." I made several attempts, all of which failed. I wished he would simply win so I could start over, I'm good at starting over, but he didn't.  
"Its not fair you've been playing chess forever."  
He gave me a mock offended look. "Not forever. I'm not that old, I've just had a very good opponent." He made a somewhat dramatic sigh. "I never realized how tedious chess could be when faced with such an incompetent opponent."  
It was my turn to be mock offended, but I was not nearly as convincing an actor as Eric and I broke into a smile.  
"Can you just beat me so I can try again?"  
"No." He was quite resolute, despite my imploring eyes. I wanted to learn. "I don't think I could suffer another game with you, not until you've practiced. You may have the set." With a wave of his hand the pieces hopped back into their box. Eric stood. "As much as I've enjoyed your company, it appears I have to go, I have high hopes for our next game," he face got serious "and I'm sorry for what happened, and thankful you accept me." He handed me the box, squeezing my hand once and was on his way.  
I felt better, still confused, but better. Nick Fury and his agents could do their worst, its not as if I couldn't take it.


	9. Chapter 9-Agents

I CAN'T TAKE IT!

Nick Fury had demoted me from mechanical engineer, to chump. Instead of working with 'technology otherwise unavailable to civilians', I was cleaning toilets! Toilets 50,000 feet above the ocean are still toilets. Even if they're branded with S.H.I.E.L.D eagles, they are still toilets. What was I to these suits? A janitor?

"Ava" Fury's voice came over. No, I was a janitor with a bluetooth.  
"What!"  
"There is an agent on level D with a malfunctioning heating unit."  
"Fine!"  
"Room 11D"  
"Thank you!" I wondered if I could rig all the stupid earpieces to simultaneously explode. That thought had become one of my recurring happy thoughts during the months on the helicarrier, being around these people had made me a little diabolical. I imagined myself as an armadillo surrounded by svelte cheetahs, just being kicked around, all of it happening too quickly for my little mind to grasp. The metaphor may have been geographically inaccurate, but was true enough for me.

11D was in the section of living quarters that had slightly nicer accommodations, for higher ranks or something. The rooms in this section had their own showers, and beds that actually resembled beds. Naturally, I was not in that section. I shared a closet with three gun wielding gorillas and was supposed to shower communally. Again, I was reminded of the armadillo and the cheetahs, this time naked. I shuddered. Luckily, I knew every nook and cranny on the ship and had various nests set up from tip to stern and had learn to shower nocturnally. Unluckily, I had-through my exploration-discovered a few national secrets. Which might have explained why Fury was punishing me with toilets. I hadn't even finished my musings when I arrived at 11D. I made to knock when the door suddenly slid open. It was a woman.

"Donna?" True, she did have red hair, green eyes and shared Donna's alluring physique, but the resemblance stopped there. This woman was no housewife. She gave me a suspicious look.  
"Are you here to fix the heating unit?"  
Nod.  
"Come in."  
Nod. Whoever she was she was certainly commanding. I stepped in and went directly to the heating unit, which looked like someone had tried to kick it through the wall. You can't abuse machines and still expect them to work. She stayed in the room as I worked, surprising considering it was about was about 120 degrees. More surprising she spoke to me, more at me, her rigid tone dropped for a more relaxed one. At, because between the stomped in heater and her scantily clad body I was having a hard time conversing back. I knew it was hot, but her attire was ridiculous. She was wearing a pair of cut off shorts that were more holes than denim and her tank top was so worn it looked like it might disintegrate leaving her topless. I was still nodding at whatever she was saying, if she was saying anything. A repair like this should have only taken me two or three minutes, seven minutes in and the darn thing was still not fixed, and I was beginning to sweat. What the hell was wrong with me, and why was this woman so distracting?  
"You're not done yet? Fury was telling me how you could fix anything, he didn't tell me what you looked like. How old are you?"  
"I'm lo..mm...I..um" It felt like I was trying to talk with a mouth full of marbles, or my foot. "I..uh..fix usually faster...I fix things fatter...I mean faster usually."  
"Its fine, I don't mind extreme temperatures, much. You were telling me how old you were."  
"Yes I, I'm older than I look." She was clearly not satisfied with this answer. "I'm twenty five."  
"God, really? You barely look nineteen, must be the bangs."  
"Oh."  
"Are you normally this loquacious?"  
"Yes, I mean no. Nobody to talk to."  
"..." Her look said 'there are over 300 people on this ship'.  
"Normal people, well people that don't carry firearms. Well, I don't talk much to those people either...I'm from New York."  
"Not a talker then. Thats fine, I've just been bored out of my mind, my roommate has been on assignment for two weeks, and they're the only one on this ship I 'talk' to."  
"Its not that I'm not a talker, its just you're-you have a roommate?"  
"Yes."  
"I didn't think people in this section had to share-"  
"Its by choice, we're partners."  
"Oh."  
"I'm just what?" I looked at her, I could tell she was not going to let me go till I answered. I bet she was a spy or interrogator. Her gaze was making my stomach do acrobatics. I searched for an escape, the heater! I turned to poke at it. Behind me she soundlessly moved from her seat on the bed to the patch of floor behind me. "Hey."  
I nearly jumped out of my skin, shoving my screwdriver clear though the control panel right into the converter. It was not the first time I had electrocuted myself and absorbed the shock, it was the first time I had done it with an audience. "You scared me! I could have electrocuted myself!" Nice save.  
"Your screwdriver."  
"Yeah, I broke it, and the heater-more, sorry."  
"I'm responsible, I shouldn't have surprised you while you were working. Normally, I'm not this talkative its just the heat and the boredom. I've been losing my mind. Can you still fix it?"  
'Yes, under normal circumstances I could, but you're making my brain not work.' "I should be able to, its just-"  
"I'm distracting you?" I nodded vigorously. "You could have just said so, I'm out." As soon as the door shut behind her logic started working again, and I had the stupid heater working in 90 seconds. I packed my tools and ducked out only to run into something pleasantly firm.  
"Done already?" I really wanted to run away. I nodded, gave in, and ran for my life.

Quick note-That was just as awkward to write as it was to read, I assure you, and I'm sorry cause things are gonna get even more awkward in the next chapter. It will get better...I hope.


	10. Chapter 10-Widow

"Do you find me attractive?"  
I had been working on a light fixture in her room that had mysteriously broken for the second time that week. At the question, the compact step ladder I had been balancing on reared, vaulting me across the small room. Natasha did not react, she had grown bored or used to my outbursts, she only looked up from her book waiting for an answer.  
"You are attractive." I didn't feel so weird saying it because it was less a confession, less of an opinion, and more of a university accepted truth. Natasha was extremely attractive. She gave me one of her looks. I had begun to appreciate how subtle and nuanced they were, after so much time spent fixing her appliances.  
"I meant, are you attracted to me?" That one was harder, much harder. Visually, she was distracting, to the point of disastrous, and she was pleasant company. Easy-easyish to talk to, and she was one of the few people on the ship who acknowledged my existence, and respected the work that I did. But, what does it mean to be attracted to somebody? For all my years, I didn't have any experience in that area.  
"I, I like you."  
"What do you like about me?"I looked at her, she was being totally serious. I didn't understand why she was being so forward. I knew she liked to push my buttons, but she was always passive about it.  
"the shape of your lips, your skin just on the inside of your wrist and on your declotage. I like the way you move." I shouldn't have said anything, I could feel my face grow hot, I was probably as red as a tomato.  
"So its physical then."  
"A lot of it," My lingering fifties sensibilities told me it was wrong to be attracted to someone purely for their looks was wrong. They also told me being attracted to a woman was wrong, but with all of the sense in my life completely out the window I failed to care. "I'm jealous of how fearless you are." God knows I couldn't be so direct.

I was blushing to my ears at my little confession. Having managed to fix the light-even with Natasha's distraction. I stepped down and faced her, sort of, I was too embarrassed to look her in the so I faced the vent almost directly behind her. One of its screws had come loose, how appropriate. She wasn't saying anything, I didn't know what she was doing, or thinking for that matter. It felt like I was being appraised. I could feel my face going redder by the second. What was I thinking? What else was I supposed to say? Why had she asked me something like that? The air was stifling I had to get out, run away so I could sort my head. I had taken my first step to the door when I felt an unyielding hand on my forearm. I yanked once, twice, reaching with the other hand to the door. She yanked back, she was standing now and I fell into her. She put her hand on my waist to steady me, while it did steady my feet, it sent my mind whirling.

"You're not wholly unattractive yourself. You want to know what I like about you?" Her hand moved lower. "I like your nimble little hands, how flustered you get," even lower "I like" oh dear "your butt. You know what I don't like? How completely oblivious you are." She pinched me, hard, on the bottom. It hurt, but it jump started my brain. I yelped, dislodged Natasha's arms, and ran like hell.

Teasing was one thing, but this, this was completely inappropriate! She could obviously read me like a book, so why had she made me come out and say it? Okay, she didn't make be but she's a very difficult woman to refuse. Was it about humiliating me, a particularly cruel punishment from Fury for my snooping? I didn't understand, why did I have to be attracted to someone galactically out of my league, and why did she have to taunt me about it? The helicarriers hallways echoed with my footfalls, even the sound of me running was ungainly, and now my own ship, my home, was mocking me for it. I jumped, latching onto the first crossbar and clambered up, and crawled my way to one of my most secluded hiding spots.

It was an oversized air duct overlooking the the round room. It was secluded because the round room was designed as a cell, at least the center portion, a giant glass room suspended over a trapdoor. No one else on the helicarrier visited it unless they had to, but I liked it. I hopped down and opened the trapdoor, below the capsule like room, the floor dilated. It opened to the clouds below, and the ocean still farther below air whooshed up carrying up the salty scent of the ocean. Satisfied, I climbed back up to my alcove, able to relax a bit now with sounds and smells, almost like the ones at my warehouse back in New York.

I hadn't dozed off, more dazed. I had let my mind empty. There was nothing but my ship and my wind, familiar things, indifferent things, things that made sense. I counted the rivets in the room, surveying my favorite room for any blemishes, anything I could fix. It was pristine, just as I had left it last. There were no agents here to come in and break things.

"Ava?" I almost jumped out of my skin, but quieted myself before I could give away my hiding spot.  
"This is a restricted area." Its my goddamn ship! I can go wherever I want.  
"found you." Before I could scramble out of reach she caught me by the ankle and unceremoniously dragged me out. I waited for impact on the steel floor, instead she caught me, then I squirmed, and she dropped me. There's the impact I was waiting for.  
"Why did you run?"  
"Because you were teasing me!"  
"You don't believe that I'm attracted to you?"  
"No!" I was indignant, I may have raised my voice to much, but did she really think I was delusionally optimistic enough to think she would go for me?  
"God you're clueless."  
"I'm n-"  
"I'm gonna spell it out for you. I am attracted to you. I have been braking every fixture in my room to get your attention-childish, yes but you were too dense to pick up on anything else. I'm sexually frustrated, and bored to tears of waiting for a mission. What I was trying to propose be for you bolted, and am proposing now is that we be fuckbuddies-"  
"FUCK WHA?"  
"Friends who have sex." Any verbal bomb Fury had ever dropped was a beebee pellet, a pebble in a well, compared to this atomic onslaught.  
"I"

"um"

"that sounds nice." Never having, well, done, had...sex, I didn't know if in fact it was 'nice' but it was in every facet of american culture for a reason, right?

A note from the author,  
First order of business, I'm not a huge fan of how the crossover portion of the website is formated, and seeing as my only x-men cameo is Magneto-cause he's awesome-I think I'll switch it over to the purely Avengers portion of the site. Secondly, is the POV bothering anyone? Any of the four people reading this-thank you for following by the way. I started in first person purely out of instinct, and now I don't know how to get out of it, or if I even should. Bottom line, I'm losing momentum and I think some feedback, critiques would give me ideas. Last thing, these last few chapters have been a bit weird, freaky deaky, hopefully I'll get that out of my system soon-don't judge me!


	11. Chapter 11-Morning After

"How are you feeling?"  
"Wonderfully exhausted. if I had known orgasms were that nice, I wouldn't have waited so long."  
"Why did you wait so long?"  
"..because I didn't know."

"..cause I'm a late bloomer?"  
"Fine, I'll give you that one" She curled a finger in a lock of hair just at the nape of my neck. The gentle tugging sending a shiver down my spine. Then released the lock and ghosted her hand down my back, then still further to rest on my butt.  
"You really do like my butt, I didn't think you were serious."  
"Yes, I really do like your butt." She gave it a little pat and glided her hand back up. "I know you don't sleep in your assigned room, if you'd like you could share this one with me."  
"Would I get any sleep?"  
"Not likely."  
"I need sleep."  
"Not much." She revised. 

oOo

Things on the helicarrier improved greatly after Natasha and I...knocked boots. It was too weird even to even think about, even stranger that she was so open about it. Shockingly handsy at times, even in front of what were essential her colleges. Sure, I wasn't an agent so there were no rules about us being... what really counts as a relationship anyway? I didn't really mind though, the ambiguousness of our relationship, or the public gropings, because my involvement with Natasha had earned me a strange sort of respect. Agents who had once broken lights and valves just to spite me, stopped, either out of reverence to my sexual achievements, or fear of the Black Widow. Either way, my job got easier. I finally had time to upgrade systems and parts, rather than just fixing them. I could do anything, my only limitation was lack of sleep, for reasons I hardly minded.

Life on the helicarrier went delightfully smooth for about nine days, and then there was the incident in New Mexico. From what Natasha had explained, there had been a catastrophic alien attack on Pueblo Pintado. The aliens in question were indistinguishable from humans, except for one called 'the destroyer' which was initially mistaken for stark technology, and they went by the names of old norse gods.

"Should you really be telling me this stuff? Isn't above my pay grade?"  
"Probably, but you would have found out eventually."  
"Maybe."

She had effectively peaked my interest. There had been several norse artifacts found in the wreckage of world war two, but their significance had failed me till now. I dove back into mythology, my curiosity overwhelming my sense, after all none of this could really be true, right? The legends were beyond belief, abundant with treachery, self sacrifice, and strangely male pregnancy. While the parallels between the Thor of legend, and New Mexico's unlikely visitor were clear, it was difficult to believe he was actually a god. My theism had never been concrete to say the least, but I felt sure that whoever these beings were they were not gods. I hoped that they were not gods, because the gods in these legends were anything but kind and all loving.

oOo

"Tash, what's bothering you?"  
"Some inconsistencies, Barton hasn't come back yet."  
"You said he was reassigned."  
"Yes, but with how slow things have been, aside from that incident, he should have returned to base before his next mission, and why send him out again? Shield has plenty of agents equally qualified that are doing nothing."  
"Maybe whatever happened New Mexico and this new assignment are connected, it could be any number of things, you shouldn't worry."  
"I don't worry. Besides Barton can take care of himself."

A note from the author,  
Okay I'm just gonna straight up beg for reviews here. Please, I know things got a bit weird for a moment there, and some of you may have even expected a lemon. Anywho, I think I'm past the weirdness now, so keep reading and please review. Oh, one last thing 10,000 words! That may not seem like much of a landmark for anyone else, but its the longest thing I've written so far, so yay!


	12. Chapter 12-Prisoner

The day he arrived I was invisible once again. The suits were in a flurry, their nest shaken by his brazen attack in germany. Like black birds they rushed up and down the branching hallways of the ship, where orders were once hushed, now they crowed over the PA system. Natasha had barely said a word when Fury told her what happened to agent Barton. Now she was a cold mask, gone were warm the nights, in favor of cleaning weapons and firing practice. It wasn't my place to say anything, it was not my place to comfort her. That was not the nature of things between us, so I moved back to my hiding places, and on the afternoon of the first day I returned to the round room.

In his cage the man, Loki, looked smaller. A wiry figure of six two-maybe three, much taller than myself, but no taller than the hulking agents I had been dealing with for months. He was not imposing physically, but by reputation. There was a fierce intelligence about him that kept me from doubting that reputation. I should have been scared of him. I should have stayed away from the farel god that he had proved he was, but my curiosity painlessly overtook my self preservation.

I hopped down from alcove, he didn't stir. I circled the cage reminded of children at the zoo, tempted to do something to get a rise out of the caged beast. When I had made a full circle I tapped the glass, just with the tip of my finger, my nail making click as it hit the glass. He looked at me with a gaze too indifferent to be questioning, it was a sort of passing haughty acknowledgement. While his god status was still questionable in my mind, there was no doubt to me that he was a prince.

"Loki?" His lip curled, clearly displeased at being addressed to informally. "Your highness?" I tried to keep any sarcasm out of my voice, despite the ridiculousness of the title. He was not biting. "After the incident in New Mexico, I read up a little on norse mythology. You're nothing like what I imagined you."  
"..." He was fully acknowledging my presence now, with a great deal of displeasure.  
"Some of the legends describe you as rather grotesque, I'm just surprised, you look so normal" I'm not sure which he took as more insulting 'grotesque' or 'normal', but I finally got a rise out of him.  
He hissed, "Can I help you?" but it sounded more like 'Shut your peasant mouth before I stitch it close, stab you in the neck and watch you choke on your own blood.'  
"Yes, I had a few questions-"  
"I have already told your superior I know nothing of the tesseract's location, and if he thinks someone like you can rend the information from me, he is sorely mistaken."  
"Nothing like that, I'm sure Fury has someone far more qualified lined up to interrogate you. I just wanted to know how much of the legends are true, the stories of Fenris and Hel?"  
"Yes." He answered like I had asked the stupidest question he'd ever had the misfortune of hearing.  
"and Slejpner?"  
"Yes."  
"Wow." At this he looked, expecting me to go on. "On earth the gift of life is generally one reserved for women, and women here never give birth to alternative species. Its impressive. I mean, I know nothing of aesir biology but, well, its impressive." Now I could see he was regretting acknowledging my presence, but as I figured it this 'Loki' was according to Shield bad news, and I doubted Fury would mind if I annoyed his guest a bit, after all torture is torture. I didn't feel too bad for being a pest. "In any case that should mean you can shape shift, correct?"  
"Yes."  
"Can you demonstrate?"  
"No."  
"So you can't."  
"I can, but I won't."  
"Please?" He looked like he might boil over if I pushed anymore but, the glass between us made me a bit brazen.  
"No. Why you so intent on seeing a transformation!?"  
"I just thought it would be interesting, a cool party trick."  
"Party trick!?" He was fuming. I let a smile slip.  
"So, at least those stories were right about your temper, well, your pride."  
"Don't assume anything human, you haven't begun to see my temper, and your stories are for the most part grossly uninformed."  
"Inform me?"  
"It would be a waste of my time."  
"I don't think so, you could set the record straight before you waltz off to conquer the earth."  
"You doubt that I will?"  
"I'm not a gambler, things could go either way at this point. However, I'm fairly certain that if you wanted to escape, you would have-easily."  
"The later is a fair assumption, though your superior seems to disagree, 'built to hold something a lot stronger' I believe were his words."  
"Fury, is my employer," correcting him "and not stronger, just different."  
"Hmm." For a moment it seemed like he would say something more, a retort about the hypocrisy of my position or something, but he said nothing.  
"From what I read I thought you would be more verbose, also a ginger."  
"Ginger?" I nearly snorted at the way he said it. I imagined him trying to use other american slang, and I had to scrunch my face up to stop the laugh from escaping. For a super villain he was very proper.  
"Red hair."  
"Preposterous." By the way he sneered, I might have thought red hair was some asgardian cardinal sin, if I hadn't known better. Although on this man, red hair just might be a sin, it would certainly destroy his brooding aura.  
"This is exactly why you need to straighten out your whole mythos, some of these stories its hard to tell if you're Thor's brother or weird uncle."  
"I'm neither." It was the first time he had seemed truly angered by what I had said, very quickly he went from the pretentious brooding greyhound to the scorned god I had read about in his reports, and his snarl became much more intimidating.  
"touchy." I held up my hands, an apologetic gesture and stepped back. Suddenly, Fury was is my ear sounding quite out of patience."  
"Miss Ava, is it safe to assume you are exactly where you are not supposed to be?"  
"Broad question, but probably yes." When Loki gave me a cockeyebrowed glance I indicated the earpiece. "What can I do for you sir?"  
"I need you to ramp up the surveillance in there. Make sure privacy will not be one of the luxuries of Loki's stay."  
"Got it." I looked back at Loki with a mock apologetic smile. "Looks like you'll be seeing a lot more of me"


	13. Chapter 13-Caged

Loki had, in his lifetime, experienced a variety of receptions in the realms he frequented. He had never been particularly well received on midgard, and this most recent endeavor was yielding much the same treatment. Not that he minded, though it was unfortunate he was forced to restrain himself among these impudent mortals out of diplomatic...somewhat diplomatic intentions. He was by no means trying to curry favor with the humans, no, that was beneath him. He was simply choosing not to kill them, despite how irritating they could be, because he could not see the point in ruling a realm of corpses. That was Hel's domain.

However, the young woman-who he had learned was called Ava-was severely testing his patience. While her actions toward him had been marginally more respectful than those of the hulking black clad idiots who had brought him to his cell, she still grated on his nerves. Ava was clearly curious, a trait he normally valued, but for reasons that eluded him, he could not tell if her fascination was sincere or not. It was her constant ambiguity that vexed him, under any other circumstances he could spot a liar. That his blind spot had turned out to be this frankly idiotic young woman was insulting. What was even more insulting was how she seamlessly shifted from barraging him with questions to ignoring him completely. As a master of deception Loki was used to being ignored, but on his terms, when it served his purposes. She wasn't even noteworthy, and she had the gall to dismiss his presence whenever she chosed? It made him want to teleport out of this detestable fish tank and throttle the girl. More confusing was that when she did pester him with asinine questions she sounded ridiculously genuine...on a ship full of liars and killers, she was the freak not him.

Loki was drawn out of his thoughts by a long drawn out yawn. To his right a tangle of limbs toppled out of a large air vent stationed above a door. The limbs lay on the metal floor for a moment before stirring, from under one unimpressive forearm emerged a head covered in an ungainly mop of honey blonde hair. The limbs slowly configured themselves into what resembled an even more ungainly young woman.

"What are you wearing?" The disgust is his voice was not unwarranted, she appeared to be wearing perhaps the ugliest set of undergarments he had ever laid eyes on. The bottoms were in jarring primary colors an emblem of an 'S' printed across the fabric, and the blue 'tank top' was in dismal condition, whatever had been printed on it had long since worn away leaving only fractions of letters clinging desperately to the back of the shirt.  
"Pajamas." A voice escaped from under the hair.  
"They're horrendous."

Ava ignored him in favor of walking barefoot to the control panel while combing her fingers through her hair, taming it with a band from her wrist. She ran one hand over the controls looking for something. In two short strides Loki was against the wall of the cell nearest to her, staring her down.

"Relax, I'm not going to drop you, that would be above my pay grade. Besides, I've got work to do."

The round room was suddenly filled with a woman's voice and a boisterous beat. At the sound Ava transformed from a zombie clad in superman boxers to a an equally boisterous young woman. Bouncing on the balls of her feet she jumped grabbing a cross beam and swung her legs up to hook her knees on an adjoining bar. Hanging from the ceiling she wrenched open a panel and surveyed the network of wires beneath, satisfied she worked her way around the circumference of the cell opening five more panels. Then she dropped down gave him a quick nod and hopped out of the room.

Loki was left ruminating in the strange midgardian music for a short while before Ava returned. She was still wearing her superman pajamas, but had added a worn leather tool belt and carried a massive grey box. The box clanged against the metal floor, she popped the lid and proceeded to collect a small menagerie of tools, and two surveillance units. Ava deftly swung up to her perch and began to install the first of the cameras. It occurred to Loki that perhaps she was not ignoring him out of spite, like so many of the humans aboard this vessel, but out of necessity. It was no less insulting, and by the time she had finished installing the fourth camera Loki was quite tired of being ignored. When she swung down to collect the last two cameras he spoke.

"Where do you come from?" She looked up at him surprised. She had clearly forgotten about him in the midst of her work.  
"Earth, I was born in poland. I lived in germany for a time and then moved to the united states." Loki was a bit taken aback at how easily she answered, he had expected a smart ass retort or some inquiry of her own. She was already hanging from the ceiling by the time he spoke again.  
"Do you speak german?"  
"No, not anymore. That was a very long time ago." Again, her honesty was confounding, experience was telling him there had to be something more.  
"And how have you come to work for Shield?" She was finished with the last camera now.  
"Nothing as scandalous as you might imagine. I'm good at fixing things, they need something fixed and they kept me around. I get a home and a playground, Shied gets a competent mechanic." Ava returned her tools to the box and removed her belt, she then padded over to the primary control panel. The first switch turned off the music, the second activated the surveillance. Around him the whirred to life, their lenses dilating and refocusing on his every movement. "What do you really want to know?"  
"As I sure you're aware, at the moment I have an abundance of free time, and this cell is far less stimulating than the last one I was held in. Let's just say I'm bored" At this she laughed, not a happy laugh, a tired frustrated laugh that sounded like it belonged to someone much older.  
"Unfortunate choice of words."  
"Care to elaborate?"  
"No. Enjoy your screentime Loki, everyone's got their eye on you now." She said it with a defeated smile and left.


	14. Chapter 14-Games

When Ava returned the next day she was in higher spirits, courtesy of the small device she appeared to be linked to by the ears. She bounced into the room with a medium wood box under one arm. Today she wore shorts in a more subdued shade of blue and a rather creased white button up, her hair was piled atop her head and bounced when she walked. She looked just as out of place in this flying military monstrosity as she had the day before, if anything that was one of the few things that made this Ava girl interesting, he thought. She somehow managed to consistently look completely out of place.

"Morning Highness," he cringed internally at the nickname, did she not realize how badly her attempts at disguising sarcasm were failing?  
"You may call me Loki" If only to stop her from using that nickname.  
"How kind. Well then, Loki, I brought you something." She held out the box for his closer inspection, it was wholly unremarkable he thought, and he assumed the contents would be similarly disappointing. "Its a game, chess. You mentioned how bored you were and it reminded me of this," She opened the box to reveal rows of small metal figurines. "You could call it earths primary board game, almost every culture has its own version, I wouldn't be surprised if asgard had something similar."  
Ava closed the box and stepped over to the control panel. Loki didn't know what he was expecting when she had started pressing buttons, perhaps more of her strange music. He was certainly not expecting the door on the far side of his cell to open, or for Ava to waltz in as if it were nothing. She ignored his incredulous look in favor of taking a seat on the floor and laying out some strange checked mat.  
"What are you doing?" It was detestable how utterly confused his own voice sounded.  
"We couldn't play through the glass could we, this is easier." She was arranging the pieces on the mat. The door behind her was wide open. Was she baiting him to escape, what could she possibly gain? She looked up at him, following his gaze to the door. "I know you have your own reasons for being here, whatever they are I doubt an open door will change them." It was a fair observation, but opening the door was a brazen move, especially for this puny woman. She pat the floor an invitation to sit, he sneered. Did she honestly expect him to sit on the floor? "I wasn't going to risk dragging a table and chairs in here. Do you want to play or not?"  
"You have funny notion of risk." Begrudgingly he took a seat. Sitting cross legged across from her he still loomed a head taller. "Explain your game."

Ava smiled. She had caught his reluctance to sit, getting him to was her first victory, getting him to listen was another. He was quite as she explain each piece, and the objective of the game. She was right about there being similar games in asgard. Strategy games that challenged the mind, unpopular with his Thor and his compatriots, but a pastime of Loki's. It was simple for him to pick up this midgardian game and its rules. It swiftly became that clear he was either extremely gifted, or his opponent was pathetically outmatched.

"You're awful at this."  
"So I've been told," at this she smiled "but I'm afraid you're stuck with me as an opponent. I really doubt Fury or his cronies will be volunteering to play with you any time soon."  
"Ah, Fury. I assume this visit was not authorized by him."  
"Nope," She took his bishop. "he either hasn't checked surveillance, thinks you might let something slip, or will be screaming in my ear very soon."  
"and you, why are you here?" He snached her rook.  
"Lets just say that ever since you showed up my favorite pastime has been put on hold-not happy with you about that-so I've been a bit bored myself."  
"Check. Favorite pastime?"  
"One that your unfortunate timing ruined." Moving her queen.  
"Apologies." Killing her queen. "Checkmate."  
"I knew you'd be good at this." She picked up her king, running her thumb over the crown of the piece and then moved to placed it in the box. Without thinking he caught her wrist and snatched the piece from her.  
"I want to play again."  
"..." she reclaimed her wrist and was looking at him strangely, like she was surprised his touch hadn't burned her. She quickly composed herself. "I thought I was an awful opponent."  
"You are, but you're more engaging than an empty room."  
"Was that meant to be a compliment?"  
"No, I'd just rather not be bored" She smiled and sighed. She began to arrange the pieces in their starting position. For a woman her hands were rough, calloused everywhere and tipped with ragged fingernails. They were nothing like gentle well mannered hands of his mother, or even the combat weathered hands of Sif. Ava's hands stood in stark contrast to her delicate wrists, in his hand they had felt tiny.  
"An idle mind is a wasted mind, or the devil's playground I can't recall." Her voice drew him out of his musing. She was looking at him with a gaze that said she had been finished setting game for a while. "Still up for a second round, Silver or bronze?"  
"You may have the first move."  
"Bronze it is." Turning the board so that the bronze pieces were closest to him. She moved her left knight first.  
"I shocked you have yet to hear from Fury."  
"You havn't made a break for it. He's probably got his panty's in a knot over that, rather than an open door."  
"You dislike Fury?"  
"Would I turn on him and join your super secret army? No. Do we have an abrasive employer employee relationship? Yes. I'm just not used to having a boss and he can be a hard ass."  
"I doubt you'd make a useful addition to my 'super secret army' either way."  
"I'm not a soldier, I'm a mechanic."  
"One without loyalties." he hadn't meant it as a judgement but when he looked at her she looked rather displeased.  
"I'm not disloyal, I've just got my own priorities and not a ton of friends."  
"and your priorities?"  
"Live comfortably."  
"Under my rule you would." At this she laughed.  
"Thats no way to get people to root for you."  
"Root for me?" As if he needed anyone one of these ant to root for him. It had been simple enough to take the most powerful force in the universe from their bumbling grasp, conquering them would pose no more of a challenge.  
"You clearly come from privilege. People prefer an underdog, someone who earns their place." She wasn't looking at him, instead she studied the chess board, deciding her next move.  
"I have no need to earn what is rightfully mine, I have simply to take it."  
"By what? Unnecessary force, fear, killing people? Why subjugate a people into hating you when you could just as easily charm them into giving you everything you want, aren't you know for your silver tongue? I may not have loyalties but I can't abide people who would resort fear and violence to control "  
"You seem to have an unhealthy lack of fear of me miss Ava."  
"I don't fear you," Loki was very tempted to give the impertinent wench some very good reasons to fear him. "I respect you. Check." His rage deflated at her words, and he looked down at the game. She really did have him in check, somehow. He was swiftly out of it though.

The two played in silence for a while. Loki not knowing what to say, of course Loki expected respect but on asgard it had always gone Thor, and these humans had only ever met him with contempt.

"Checkmate."  
"You won again, I don't think I'll be winning against either of you anytime soon." The last part she said more towards the pieces than to Loki.  
"You have another opponent?"  
"A friend, he taught me how to play, and gave me this set. The two of you are quite similar, proud, intelligent, driven" misguided and wronged, but she left the last two out. "I imagine you would either be good friends or at each others throats if you met." He thought she might say something more, but before she could she sat bolt upright and turned away. "Looks like I've got a job to do, I had fun losing against you Loki." She swiftly packed up the pieces and board, was up and out the door locking the cell before he could reply.  
It was many hours before he had another visitor, a stealthy woman clad in black with hair the color of blood.


	15. Chapter 15-Escape

"That was some very unprincely language," It was Ava. "What you said to Agent Romanoff, would you really do those things?" She looked betrayed, and Loki found himself disquieted by the look.  
"Yes." At the time he had said what he did to the agent to intimidate her, but he had meant every word. That widow woman was the kind of two faced sludge he wanted to cull from this planet, and he had no qualms killing her. When he met Ava's eye's she hid nothing, everything, the sadness, anger, and disappointment were clear on her face. He was suddenly angry. Why was this woman who so clearly did not belong here? Why was she looking at him with the same eyes his father had before letting him fall into the abyss? "You don't belong here."  
"I know, but this is my home." She stepped closer to the cage stopping a few inches from the glass. With less than a foot between them he noticed things, how much shorter she was then the agent woman, how when her head was down her face was completely hidden. He studied the top of her head for a moment before she spoke. "I take it you'll be leaving soon?"  
"Yes."  
"A lot of people are going to die?"  
"Yes."  
"You're going to regret it." At this she met his eye's, this time they held only one emotion, anger.  
"I regret nothing." and he would make her regret such impudence till the rapidly approaching day she died.

oOo

Ava was in no position to stop Loki, it wasn't her job to fight, but somehow she felt accountable. Of all the people on the helicarrier she had had the most contact with him, more than his own brother. During her visits Loki had plenty of opportunities to hurt her, kill her, escape, or simply ignore her, but he hadn't done those things, he had acted like a normal human being. She had forgotten what he was and just enjoyed his company. She would never presume there was friendship between them, but they were at least on amiable terms. Didn't that mean something? Shouldn't she have been able to make him listen? Why didn't she have the power to stop these things before people got hurt? It may not have been her job to fight, but she could not let herself standby and let this happen.

She was in the lower hold when she heard the crash, her heart sank at the sound. It had been just to the left of her and she arrived to see Natasha pinned the ground not far from a man trembling on his hands and knees. It took a moment but she recognised the man as Dr. Banner, and only a moment longer to realise what was happening. Ava quickly skirted her way around the debris to Natasha. The Natasha frantically waved her away, she wore an expression that Ava had never seen on her before, fear, white hot paralyzing terror. It looked so wrong on the normally capable fearless face hers. Ava ignored the warning and kneeled to lift the debris off. Everything in the room was quiet despite the chaos, the only sounds in the room were Banners grunts of pain and their breathing. Ava took one breath and pushed hard on the pipe that had Natasha pinned, metal scraped against metal and the sound was deafening, a high metallic shriek. Ava didn't chance a look at the agonized man. When there was enough of a gap Ava pulled. Natasha was on her feet in a split second and wrenching Ava up off the floor. Only a few strides behind the other woman Ava glanced back at the doctor, he was still on the floor but he was growing the sound of fabric tearing echoed through the room, Ava tripped.

oOo

I couldn't move. I watched helplessly as Natasha raced down the hallway, away from the thing just behind me, the thing that had been Banner moments ago. I couldn't move, I was face down on the cold metal floor hot tears running down my face. I couldn't, I was too scared to even move. I clenched my eyes closed so hard a saw white spots and clawed at the floor trying to push myself up. My fear had me firmly pinned to the ground, with a savage sob I threw it off my back. The weight gone I was finally able to flip myself over just as the hulk's fist came down on my chest. The barrage of fists was unlike anything I had ever absorbed before, it was nothing like the sharp impact of bullets or the heat of electrocution. Each blow was a massive percussive force rattling me to my teeth, and the hits came one after another endlessly. The green monster wailed on me mercilessly, each strike more powerful than the last fueled with with frustration at their lack of effect. All I could do was lay there and take it, I held my arms up to shield my face. Its hands came down hard on my shoulders forcing my arms down and caging me. My arms down I was forced to face it. It roared inches from my face and I thought my skull would shatter from the sound and then it was gone.

I didn't move until three armed agents found me. They said nothing when they pulled me from the cratered metal. They tried to prop me on my feet but I was shaking so severely I couldn't stand and fell to the floor.

"Ava? What the hell happened here?" I recognised the voice, it was Jackson one of the agents who shared my assigned room. Distantly, I was surprised he remembered my name, I had hardly spoken to him since I first moved to the helicarrier.  
I tried my best to explain, but for all my efforts I couldn't form words all that escaped were pathetic wimpers. I finally managed one word, it was 'Banner'' but that much was already clear from the wreckage.  
"Sir, we've got a situation on deck two." Another man in the group urged. Jackson reached towards me and I flinched back uncontrollably.  
"Get yourself somewhere safe, you were not trained for this." Jackson said it like an apology, then left with his men.  
It felt like an hour before I had the strength to stand. I walked in a daze through my tattered ship, gaping flaming wounds in the hull of my home. Bodies, some unconscious, some dead scattered through my hallways. Everything was ruined, that man had come into my home, pretended to be human and ruined everything. I stepped in something wet, realizing now that I was wearing exactly what I was wearing when I said my goodbyes to that man. It was just this morning, but it seemed so long ago. Everything, everything had changed in just hours. I looked down, I was standing in a pool of blood. I felt dizzy, everything around me was familiar, but it was all wrong. I was in the round room but the cell was gone, and there were holes in the walls, and a dead man at my feet. I didn't even know who he was but the sight of him on the floor was the last straw. Everything came pouring out of me and I fell to the floor and wept.

There was a hand on my shoulder, without thinking I tried to lash out blindly at its owner. It was warm and firm and held me fast. The hand belonged to Fury. He looked much older, for the first time since I met him he looked powerless. For the first time, things were beyond his control.

"I don't, I don't, why did this happen? I don't understand!" I was screaming now, sobbing between words. Helpless, and angry that Fury could never give me the answers I wanted.  
"Bad things happen."  
"NO! No! I've had enough bad things happen! All my life! This is too much, this is too much!" My voice shook and I could barely see through my tears, but I could still see the face of the dead agent. He was a stabbing reminder that all that had happened was more than just a nightmare.  
"Ava." Fury's voice was grounded, anchoring me to a reality I wanted no part of.  
"No! You don't understand. Everyone dies. Everyone always dies and they leave me behind." Words were spilling out. My secrets were spilling out like hysterical ramblings.  
"Ava, calm down. Not everyone is dead. Yes, we've had casualties but we can't give up." In his own way he was trying to comfort me, but he would never understand the losses I faced, and nothing he said mattered. His voice was so cold and far away.  
"Why couldn't I stop this?"  
"I don't know."

In case you were curious here's a rundown of Ava's active mutant powers: rapid cell division and extreme longevity, this prevents her from aging and speeds her recovery. Her healing rate is nowhere near Wolverine's and is somewhat dependent on how much energy she has in her system. Which brings me to her second ability, she can absorb kinetic energy. This is not an innate ability, it takes concentration and some things are simpler to absorb than others. For instance, absorbing something with a great deal of force behind it like a bullet or a hulk fist is like catching a tennis ball, while absorbing something with significantly less force behind it, an arrow or normal hand to hand combat, is like trying to catch a BB pellet. The tradeoff is the more energy she tries to absorb the harder it becomes to she were a pokemon she'd be a defensive type and would suck at any close combat, her primary powers would be 'take abuse' and 'flee'.


	16. Chapter 16-The first Avenger

Ava was planning something stupid and she knew it. From the moment she had seen the results of the locator algorithm she was on autopilot, deftly navigating the chaos to gather the supplies she needed. It had been simple to swipe a set of shield regulation body armor. She chose to leave the gun behind, instead he took a belt of grenades set on shoving them down Loki's throat or die trying. All she needed now was transport, a far more challenging objective. Ava spotted a quinjet on the airstrip warming its engines. She doubted that she, even with grenades, could threaten the pilot to take her to new york. But he didn't have to know. While Ava may not have had the expertise of Natasha in stealth, she did have a knack for fitting into small hiding spaces. She had just managed sneak in unnoticed, and jam herself into the overhead cargo when she heard a group people step onto the jet. The pilot heard them enter.

"You're not authorised to be here."

"Son, just don't." It was Captain America that spoke. Ava hoped his companions were not who she thought they were.

"Hawkeye, Tony's already on his way, We need to get in the air, now." Natasha's voice.

"Shit." The whisper slipped out before she could think and there was a sharp pain in her ribs. She was pinned in the overhead, the tip hooked into the flesh of her back and the fletching still on the other side of the thin metal that separated her from the three.

"Ava?" Still hiding Ava yanked desperately on the arrow, but with only an inch of clearance above her the arrow was wedged firmly in place, in her. She couldn't play dead, so she reached around to her back and tried to snap off the tip of the arrow. It. Hurt. Like. Hell. but the tip snapped off, and with clenched teeth and some coaxing the arrow slid out and clattered to the floor of the quinjet.

"You shot me!" She reached one hand over the ledge that concealed her, and pulled herself free of the cramped slot.

"With an arrow!" She released the arrow tip from her other hand and watched its owner catch it. She pulled herself the rest of the way free.

"Hawkeye!?" Who the hell was this guy? Ava she directly looked at the man who had caught the arrowhead. "That. Really. Fucking. Hurt." There was a tense silence before anyone spoke.

"Ava, what are you doing here? You need medical attention." Natasha barked it like orders, but the shorter woman didn't budge, it was her turn to give orders.

"I'm not going anywhere. He only grazed me." Ava was thankful the armor was black, and her bleeding was well camouflaged or else her lie would be even less plausible. "We need to get to new york." She shot a pointed look at Hawkeye who was muttering something about 'never grazing a target in his life'. "Wern't you supposed to be getting this thing in the air?" The man stared back, his mouth slightly agape.

Captain America was the one who finally got things moving. He gave some speech about priorities, and the urgency of their mission as he guided Hawkeye to the pilot's seat. Natasha reluctantly took copilot seat and spared a glance at Ava before they took off. The Captain took a seat across from Ava and caught the sight of the grenades strapped around her waist.

"What do you plan to do with those miss?" She didn't know why he was asking, it was clear from his tone that he already knew the answer, and she doubted he wanted to hear it from her.

"I plan on shoving them down Loki's throat." He looked at her, it was a very sad knowing look, from a man who'd seen the same hunger for revenge consume so many.

"and if I tried to stop you?"

"You might, but I've got sixteen of these and I'm not exactly thinking straight." She tried to say it with some humor, but under the circumstances it was misplaced, and sounded strained even to her.

"What did Loki do to you?" This man sounded like he genuinely cared, but the worry in his voice gnawed at her resolve.

If she was honest with herself, he really hadn't done anything to her, not directly. But, what he did to the helicarrier, turning her baby, her pride and joy, her home, into a flying mass grave. That was unforgivable "It's personal."

"Please don't get yourself killed." He was so sincere that part of her wanted to assure him she was not going to do something reckless. Another part of her, the part currently running things, wanted to spit back in his face how absurd the notion was coming from a man on what was essentially a suicide mission, but that would have been too unkind.

Captain America sat across from her, unaware of what a painful reminder he was of everything Ava had lost. When she looked at him she saw the family she had left behind, Borus' firm values and Donna's kind eyes. She saw how out of place they both were in this time, and she was envious that he never had to live through the years and wars that she had. He didn't have to lie about where he came from or how old he was. She winced at the thought, she had been honest with one person about where she came from, she felt very foolish now. It was only wishful thinking, trying to see good where there was none.

"I feel responsible," Captain opened his mouth to protest but she cut him off "let me finish. I had the most contact with that man. I should have..if I had just...done something." All the fight left her body and she hunched in her seat. Her hands were in her lap, she examined them, remembering the moment he had grabbed her wrist. "He let his guard down, and I didn't. I didn't utilize that." The words made her feel ill. The idea made her feel ill. No matter how deplorable Loki was, Ava could never manipulate people the way he did.

"You're not a spy, you're a mechanic. He would have seen through you in a second, and you would have gotten yourself killed. I'm surprised he didn't kill you outright, it was a lapse in Fury's judgement to let you get that close." Natasha's tone was even, like she was simply stating facts, but her words were a small comfort to Ava. It was Hawkeye who spoke next, his tone much less even.

"Why the hell didn't he kill you? What makes you so goddamn special? What did you give him to make him spare you?"

"Nothing! He just didn't have a reason to kill me." How could she possibly explain the actions of a mad god?

"He didn't have a reason to kill eighty five shield agents! He doesn't have a reason to open up a portal and rain hell on New York! On civilians! Dead bodies are piling up and you're not in the heap. Am I the only one curious why!?" His voice was hushed, but every word was pointed. Each one sharp, and they buried themselves painfully into Ava.

"I don't know why! I didn't tell him anything. We just played chess...I just want to help." He had to believe that she wasn't on that mans side.

"Give me your earpiece." Natasha ordered quietly.

"Tash?" Ava was confused, in her periphery she saw Hawkeye flinch at the nickname.

"If you want to help you will. You take orders from me or Cap, you help civilians, and you hand over the grenades before you blow yourself up."

"I understand."

"Good cause we're here."


	17. Chapter 17-Fire Fight

The quinjet spiraled out of control. Ava, unprepared for the rapid descent, was thrown against a wall. Her still healing arrow wound connected with something solid and she nearly bit through her tongue. The other passengers looked for the most part unaffected by Loki's sudden attack and the subsequent emergency landing. It was just another unpleasant reminder of how out of her depth Ava was. It took her a moment to get to her feet. Steve gave her a concerned look but she dismissed it with a wink and a half hearted salute to say 'I'm fine Cap'.

When they all exited the jet the were met with a sight. New York was already in flames. Aliens, the Chitauri scaled the skyscrapers. Deep gouges were carved out of the sides of buildings made by god knows what. Whatever was left of New York to be saved was quickly going up in flames. Beyond the chaos she could hear the captain.

"Ava...Ava! I need you to work your way toward stark tower, get civilians off the streets and out of the hot zone. You are not engage. Do you understand me?"

"Yes..Yes sir." She corrected herself. Still dizzy she scanned the skyline, stopping at the blue lit beacon and started running.

oOo

Chaos.

Ava was not unfamiliar with war, she'd seen plenty of it, and knew its horrors intimately. This, was not war. Hundreds upon hundreds of technologically superior alien warriors lead by a mad god versus six so-called avengers and a scared girl is not war, its annihilation, subjugation, and its cruel. What good would avengers be when there was nothing left? She winced at the thought. Vengeance and envy is what started this mess, and she'd die before she'd watch the cycle continue. Every rational cell in her brain told her they were going to lose, and it wouldn't matter how many people herded to safety. Once the chitauri broke through, there would be no safe place, for her, or anyone to run to. Rational or not, losing was not an option.

"Please, I can help! If you'd just listen.."

"You're just a kid!" A stout businessman yelled. He and eight others were barricaded behind two cars that had collided from about a dozen aliens.

"It will be much safer in the subways, you'll be able to get to a safe place!" They were sitting ducks here.

"Those things will shoot us before we get ten feet."

"I can protect you-"

"With what?! you don't even have a gun!" She was tired of pleading. She wasn't cut out to give orders, and it was clear no one would listen, not without drastic measures.

"I'm going to distract them, you tell everyone you meet to get to the subways and get as far as they can." and before they could protest she jumped onto the roof of one of the cars. Immediately the chitauri were firing on her. She smiled, they wern't firing bullets, out of each gun came bolts of pure energy and she absorbed each shot with ease. She stepped forward, making sure every gun was trained on her, but no one moved. She had them distracted, but no one even budged.

She brought her foot down hard on the roof of the car, there was a resounding clang as combat boot met metal. "Move Dammit!" and they did.

She launched herself off the roof and ran at the Chitauri, their gunfire felt like rain. Before she got within close combat range she took a hard right and skirted around them. They chased her for a few blocks and she ran announcing Rogers orders as more Chitauri joined the pack.

"Get to the subways and as far from Stark tower as you can!"

There was a loud pop in her ear and a male voice came on the earpiece.

"Hey blondie, need a hand?" Ava knew Tony Stark only by reputation, but the smirk in his voice was unmistakable.

"Its Ava, and I could do without this tail!" Absorbing shots from the growing hoard behind her was simple enough, but staying out of physical range while navigating the streets full of debris was taking its toll.

"Impressive tail, How'd you piss so many off?" there was a short pause "Ava, you're gonna want to duck...NOW!" Not one to argue Ava rolled haphazardly across the hood of a car and braced. There was an explosion just behind her, it sent pavement and alien bits flying. Another pop.

"None of this is going to mean a thing if we can't get that portal closed." Natasha sounded exhausted.

"I tried, there's a barrier. Pure energy, nothing I have can get through." Starks tone had lost all playfulness.

"I can get through." She had only meant to say it to herself, just a whisper, completely forgetting the earpiece was two way.

The line went dead for only a moment before Natasha's voice came on."You can?"

"Yes." At least she thought she could, theoretically, maybe? Ava knew she sounded uncertain.

"Tell me you can break the barrier." Natasha's voice was heavy with so many questions: how could she possibly destroy the barrier if Stark could not? What was Ava hiding? Why had she chosen to fight? Could she even be trusted? With a single sentence she asked Ava everything.

"I can break the barrier." Ava tried to sound strong, to sound sure, she tried.

"Stark, new objective: get Ava to the tower. Ava, I don't care how, just shut this thing down." Ava could hear the reluctance in the Black Widows voice. She could hear her skepticism. She could also hear how they were running out of options.

Iron man was beside her on the ground in a matter of seconds. "Excuse me," He hoisted her up into a rather uncomfortable embrace. She wasn't used to physical closeness, not from anyone but Natasha, but now was not the time to be thinking of such things, or of her. The hard planes of his armor dug painfully into her sides. "I hope you're not afraid of heights."

"I'm afraid of being dropped."

"Then let's avoid that."

Ava watched the ground fall away and felt her stomach fall with it. When she had dreamed of flying, this was not what she imagined. The wind on her face rendered her blind with its ferocity and deaf to everything but its roaring. Every inch of exposed skin stung viciously, she turned her face to Iron Man's chest in an attempt to shield it from the wind and her own whipping hair. It did little, and the motion made her queasy.

"Hold tight Blondie, we got company."

Suddenly the world was spinning, jolting, and doing a number of other things that had her recollecting exactly what she had for breakfast. Coffee mixed with bile and some unidentifiable unwelcome chunks, and rose in her throat.

"At this point I wouldn't mind being dropped, just aim for the roof, before I puke on your suit."

"Its a good twenty foot drop, can you handle it?" It occurred to Ava that she was in Shied gear, and to a very untrained or distracted eye she could be mistaken for an agent. Maybe, she thought. agents were trained to fall from ridiculous heights? Was she trained? No. Could she survive? Probably.

"Drop me and kill these bastards."


	18. Chapter 18-Tesseract

Her landing went better than she expected. Absorbing the impact had been a bit of a jolt and she had still managed to trip and fall on her face, but she was alive and unscathed. She shifted her gaze to an unconscious Dr. Selvig and his machine, it glowed a blinding blue, and even distanced from it she could feel its energy hum against her skin. The hair on her arms and neck stood on end and her skin tingled.

As she stepped forward she began to pull at the tendrils of energy that graced her skin, tasting it. It was unlike anything she'd absorbed before, it was tempting and foreboding all at once. At each step the the tesseract rebuffed her, pushing on her from all sides with oppressive, wild energy. Still, she pressed forward. It took her six labored steps to reach the barrier. Standing before it was like being caught in a cyclone, it wanted to throw her off this roof, but she wouldn't let it. She placed her hands on the forcefield and pulled its energy into her.

It was like trying to swallow the sun. It seared her hands, exploded through her veins, up her up her arms and lashed inside of her. The tesseract had had its own astronomical will and was not about to be controlled by one tiny human.

The tesseract was not meant to be controlled. It was a joke. A cruel promise of power, and a death sentence to those who tried to use it. Like the geine, it had the power to grant wishes, and like the gods who created it, it was capricious and brutal.

She could feel the tesseract's energy try to lance it's way out of each pore.

And still she pulled.

It felt like the fluid in her eyeballs might boil.

And still she pulled.

Every cell in her body felt like it would burst.

And still she pulled.

Ava thought she knew how to escape pain. She remembered how she learned in her father's lab to retreat into her mind, how to leave her body, until pain was only a distant ache. Ava thought she could escape pain, but there was no escaping. Her thoughts were gone, lost in the roar of agony. Her mind was gone, replaced by pain. There was nothing but pain. Every nerve in her body screamed, but her throat closed before she could release her own, so the screams echoed inside of her. They ricochet inside her skull until she thought it might split, but it didn't. There would be no such relief, she was trapped inside her own body with the tesseract. She wanted to break, to shatter, to turn into dust, but she couldn't. Her own stubbornness shackled her to her body and to her mission.

So she pulled.

oOo

Loki watched, sick with rage, as the great blue pillar of light began to flicker. He watched, his portal collapse inch by inch, and roared. Loki's control was slipping, red bleed into the edges of his vision, and very quickly his body went cold. Icy blue fingers tightened around the scepter as its light faded and he launched himself onto the roof.

Above him the portal rapidly collapsed, a leviathan caught halfway between worlds was sliced in two as the portal constricted onto a mere pinpoint before disappearing. Cut off from their hive mind the chitauri began to fall, empty bodies. When the severed head of great beast landed, it made the ground shudder, and Loki knew he was undone. All of his plans were ruined, and as he looked down at the culprit, he was disgusted.

She lay there half curled around the dead cube shaking, but she did not shake in fear of him. The tiny woman was blinded to everything around her by pain. He could see it in the set of her features, and hear it in the desperate rhythm of her heart. Pathetic, she was crying. He could see the bright light of the tesseract shine out from under her tawny lashes. In her tensed hands was the spent vessel of the tesseract, gray now, with all the light and power drained from it. How could she be the source of his defeat? The indignity. She was a weak, stupid little girl, Inadequate even among her own kind, and Loki would not suffer the shame of her existence a moment longer. With all his might he thrust the wicked point of his scepter into her throat.

It didn't connect. It didn't even graze her throat before he was catapulted off the roof by a bolt of cerulean lightning. It caught him in the chest, searing easily through his armor. For an instant he was paralysed by the pain. It was like a thousand of Thor's mighty bolts in one horrible blow.

oOo

"Did we win?" Tony sounded winded, a bit confused, but it was clear to all of them that the worst was over.

"I think so." As he said it Steves shoulders sagged and relaxed, they had won- "and Loki?"-mostly.

"I think I've spotted him. Its hard to tell, reindeer games has himself about two thirds the way through a mom mobile."

"Keep an eye on him."

"Aye aye Cap."

A note from the author

I'm going to be completely honest here, writing has been a bit like wading through mud as of late, slow and arduous. My primary motivation has been you guys, I was so pleased to see that some people were following my story, so thank you. Please know that you reviews are deeply encouraging, and I look forward to reading more.


	19. Chapter 19-Victory?

"Sir," Natasha was breathless "the portal is closed."

Nick Fury heaved a sigh. "Good, and Loki?"

"Iron man found him at the base of stark tower embedded in a minivan. From all we can tell he fell."

"He's alive?" His voice was difficult to read.

This time Natasha sighed. "He's alive." She turned her gun in her hands, and pulled out the clip. She was down to her last two rounds. "What are we going to do with him?"

Fury was silent on the other line for a while. "Hope to god that he stays unconscious long enough for us to figure that out. Until then, wait for debriefing."

"Yes sir."

Four of the Avengers picked their way through the broken streets of New York towards stark tower. Bruce found himself on top of what may have once been an awning, in front a restaurant across from stark tower. Captain America stopped every few blocks to help out the remaining civilians, and direct police. Hawkeye was tempted to to stay at his perch on fourth and main watching from above, reluctantly he made his way down to street level. There he found one of the many limp Chitauri bodies, he nudged it with his boot and watched its lifeless head loll to the side.

"Anyone got an idea what happened to these bastards?"

"Several," Tony cut in "all involving hive dynamics, but I'm not an alien biologist, so take with a grain of salt. Dr. Banner may have his own theories, you unhulkified yet?"

Banner took in his disheveled state, he was a mess, but not one of hulkish proportions. Which he was thankful for. "Just barely, and some sort of hive mind sounds fair to me. Dr. Pym would probably have more to say on the matter-"

"Tony?" Steve interrupted, his voice a little strained "I can't reach Ava, somethings wrong with her com."

"I don't know what to tell you Cap, I got caught up with a nasty squadron just before I dropped her, didn't have much contact. Maybe it fell out?"

"You dropped her!?" Just three blocks away from the tower steve broke into a run. "She's a cavilan!"

"She was in shield gear! How was I supposed to know? and said she'd be fine." Tony paused and thought 'I'm a cavilan, sort of' wondering what the fuss was about "If she was a cavilan what the hell was she even doing here?"

"That's not important, well, I, sort of let her...I need to know that she's alive. Can you get a birds eye?" The concern in Steve's voice was clear.

"No, three repulsors out. I'm grounded." Tony confessed. "The portals closed, she did it. She must be alright." he offered.

"I'm worried, she's just a kid." Sounding only slightly consoled.

"How?" Hawkeyes voice was stony.

"How what?"

"How the hell did she do it? Think Tony, you couldn't break through, how the hell did she?"

Natasha, Clint, and Steve stopped in their tracks. They were mere feet away from a stunned Tony, an exhausted looking Dr. Banner at the entrance to stark tower. They all looked at each other. It was clear in each of their expressions that it had never even occurred to them. How did she close the portal? Simultaneously they all straightened.

Voice all business Natasha was the first to speak "Is your elevator still working?"

"Probably."

Without another word the Black Widow lead the way through Stark's slightly dilapidated lobby, followed quickly by the Captain. They silently filed into the large mirrored lift. AC/DC played softly over the speakers.

Dr. Banner snorted softly "This is your elevator music?"

"Its my elevator." Tony retorted.

"Its absurd."

"Absurd? Have you seen us lately?" Tony motioned exaggeratedly at their reflections. "We look like shit. We just fought aliens..Aliens! Led by a guy calling himself a god! We Dr. Banner," he laughed "are the poster children for absurdity."

It was true. They looked so out of place in the sleek modern lift. Tony, still half wired into his pulverized suit. The Captain, who looked a little strange to begin with, towered over the others in his shredded unitard. Banner looked nearly homeless, without shoes or shirt, his hair sticking out at odd angles. They were all worse for wear, filthy and bruised, but they all wore small smiles at Tony's outburst. The rest of the ride was mostly in silence aside from 'Back in Black" quietly filling the elevator. Finally, the door dinged, and they all stepped out on the highest floor. Tony directed them to the stairs to the roof, as he fought to get the rest of his armour off.

oOo

When they reached the roof they found three bodies, each of them motionless. Dr. Selvig knelt over what they assumed was Ava, his weary back obscuring their view. Thor sat a ways away hunched, looking from the body to Selvig and back. Captain America rushed forward but a gentle hand stopped him just before reached the body. Thor's hand was uncharacteristically hesitant. Everything grew very quiet on the roof of stark tower, the sirens from below were snuffed out by the heavy tension in the air.

"She's not dead." Dr. Selvig chose his words carefully.

"What is that supposed to mean doctor?"

"It means she's not dead, she's not unconscious. All of her vitals are strong, more appropriately they're in over drive. She's fighting something, whatever it is she's completely unresponsive. We can't reach her."

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	20. Chapter 20-Father

Everything was bright and out of focus. I was completely surrounded by lilting shapes of silver and white. My head felt heavy, too heavy to hold up, but something pressed against my forehead keeping it firmly in place. I tried to lift my hand to shield my eyes, but it would not move. I tried again, and distantly I felt one finger spasm, but still, it would not move. A sharp disappointed tisking cut through my muffled senses, the sound felt like someone rapping on my temples. I tried to focus my eyes on where the sound was coming from, but the shapes kept swimming before my vision, my stomach lurched at their motion.

"I'm not happy Ava, this is not acceptable." There was a chiding lilt in the man's voice. He spoke english now, but the cadence of his speech was unmistakable.

"You cannot pass out like this. I have told you before 'we must be awake and alert for all our tests'. Yes?" As he finished the word I could hear him hiss slightly between clenched teeth.

I could feel the warm dank air of his breath on my ear. I tried to pull back, to wriggle away from my father, but no matter how my mind screamed by body would not listen, it would not move. Hot liquid ran down my cheeks. As the tears fell the world began creeping back into focus.

"Crying?" Shaw sneered. He coiled his arm back and struck me hard across the face. The sharp crack of his open palm striking my tear streaked face echoed through the small tiled room. The impact was made worse by the fact that my head was held firmly in place by the restraints. My eyes stung from the impact. Pain blooming across my right cheek.

"What a selfish child your mother has made of you. Don't you understand Ava? My only wish is to make you strong. With my blood in your veins you must be strong, you're my child. Harness that strength and you can learn to protect yourself, it won't hurt anymore. Fail to..and you'll be worthless to me, are you worthless Ava?"

I tried to shake my head, to speak, but fear choked me. 'I am not worthless', I tried to say 'but you're killing me'. I could not take anymore, no more treatments, no more concoctions. I was only human.

I watched in terror as Shaw turned his back. I thought he'd leave me here to die. I wanted to go back to my mother. I could not stay in this room, not with its horrible instruments, not with the pain.

Instead of turning to the door, he stopped at the largest work table in the room. On it there was something, it was covered in a clean white cloth but I could faintly make out its shape it was long, and slightly curved. A wicked point had sliced a small slit into the pristine fabric and it gleamed through the parted threads.

With a flourish he removed the cloth. He let it fall carelessly to the floor as he gazed reverently at the object that he had revealed. It was about three feet long from base to wicked tip. The blade curved like a talon from the elegantly shaped handle. Tiny engravings were scrawled organically along its length. It was beautiful in all rights, more beautiful than any weapon I had ever seen, but it was still a weapon, and no amount of beauty would make it kinder. My eyes were drawn to a stone set in the nook of the blade. The stone was unremarkable when compared to the rest of the weapon, it was smooth and the color of storm clouds, but as it drew closer I saw into it. There was a light, barely visible, that came from the stone. Tiny threads of blue light grew brighter as Shaw brought the weapon closer. He smiled down at it, his eyes no longer his own, but infected by the same chilling light.

I watched helplessly as the blade was slowly, teasingly brought to my throat. It barely rested against my skin, but it felt like all the warmth was being drawn from my body. My fingertips felt like ice, and my teeth chattered violently. Shaw had both his hands wrapped around the weapons handle, he held it with such force his knuckles turned white. I looked at him, but Shaw was completely gone, now, it was like looking into the eyes of a snake. I could see every muscle in him was poised to attack. There was a moment of perfect stillness before he struck, just a few seconds of silence before he thrust the blade into my throat.

I could feel the sharp sting of blade cutting flesh before I felt my own blood spray from my neck. I watched my blood shower his face, it sprayed into his eyes but he didn't react. Shaw had been transformed, he now embodied every nightmare he had ever inspired within me. He was too savage to be real, but everything felt so real. I felt my blood pour down my chest and pool in my lap.

I was not cold anymore, this pain was hot, searing, it burned its way through my entire body. I was sweating, the armrests of the examination chair became slick under my palms. My heart beat at triple time in my throat and in my head. I could no longer feel what was sweat and what was blood. Everything in the room was in sharp focus. The brightness of red against white hurt my eyes. My blood would not stop flowing, I felt it run from my lap down my shaking legs, and I could hear the drops fall from the tips of my toes and splash onto the tile below. I could see the pool of blood spreading out beneath me following the grooves between tiles. Everything was stained red. I was losing too much blood, but my heart only pumped faster, my blood only pumped faster.

I was dying, and I couldn't even scream. I could barely even breathe. There was too much blood filling my throat and lungs. The lack of oxygen felt like a fist closing around my chest, crushing the life out of me. Red crept in at the edges of my vision, and with every breath I tried to take it pushed further. The white tiles and silver tables of the room faded into red, and even this version monstrous Shaw was overcome by red.

I closed my eyes. There was nothing but the sound of my slowing heart and color red.

I waited, counting my heartbeats.

The beat was slow now, but steady. The pressure on my chest slowly lifted, and the burning pain my my throat faded into a distant ache. Beyond my closed eyes light pressed in. It was bright and it pushed the red back, back into the edges of my vision.

I took a breath.

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